Brothers
by thewarboys
Summary: Bonding Day for young warpups is their first step toward manhood in the Citadel, but Slit gets more than he bargained for in a new Little Brother... Also, there is naked mud wrestling.


Slit, seven years old, wiry, and tall for his age, walked with purpose after being roused from his bunk, chest puffed, knobby shoulders held wide as he tried to match the pace of the long-striding War Boys hurrying through the halls toward their chores. It was Bonding Day, a gentle name for something far more traumatic than it belied. Tiny pups had lived in relative comfort in the Nursery, from the day they were torn from their mothers' arms until the age of five, learning and developing the framework upon which their lives would be built. Loyalty to their father, the Immortan, fealty to the All Mighty Machine, and the words they must repeat, how to knit their fingers and salute, all were tireless lessons fostering blind dedication and love for the cold sheets of metal they would one day shape and solder and shine, for the hard earth that would grind them into well oiled machines, themselves, and for Joe, who would one day carry them into the next life.

The War Pup couldn't wait to be an Elder Brother, and joined the ranks of his same-aged peers, all of them eager and waiting outside the Nursery to collect their prize of flesh.

"I want that one!" One of the boys exclaimed, excited as he pointed out the biggest of the children still within the room, all of them sat down in front of their Matrons.

The other Brothers all began picking and choosing, whispering and laughing, until one of them jabbed Slit. "Which one? What'll you get?"

"Feral. Mine's gonna be Feral. Toughest scrapper of the lot!"

"Ha! Gonna muzzle 'im, are ya?"

"Teach 'im 'ow to scrap like the dogs, Slit! Gonna file 'is teeth?"

Slit cackled, delighting in the thought of his wildling Brother, someone dedicated. Someone mean. Someone that would do as he said, and scare off the older Boys. The Matrons would choose wise and right, he was sure. They knew all the War Pups, who had already taken their turns beneath their tutelage. They knew who belonged with whom, and Slit belonged with the wildest pup of the litter.

The row of fledgling pups tried their best to stay in formation, but it was clear excitement was just as ample on their side of the room. Each whispered and eyeballed their own top choice, shuffling over and around each other to get a better look. One of the smaller ones, scrawny and just barely through his baby fat from possible fevers, and several red bite-marks through his fresh clay, already beamed at the entire line of Big Brothers. He was shoved back and out of the way before he could even catch a glimpse, but still his excited smile didn't fade.

"Looka' that one, Slit, Ahaha, Pity who gets stuck with the runt!" One of the boys next to him gave Slit a sharp elbow. "Look at that one, though! Got his age wrong, I bet. Bet he could crush that little one!"

"Boys!" One of the Matrons snapped her fingers, while others snatched the shoulders of the young pups to turn them round. "Now, this is the last we'll be seein' of ya. Understand? From here out, you and your Brothers are on yer own. Take yer own baths, get yer own food, an' defend it, understand? What you do if anybody tries to take from you?"

"GIVE 'EM HELL!" The chorus of little voices rang out, and giggled amongst themselves.

"What you do if anybody thumps ya?"

"PUT UP OR SHUT UP!"

"Who ya go to if ya get hurt?"

"ORGANIC MECHANIC!"

"Who loves ya?"

"DADDY LOVES US!"

"An' us, too, eh?" The woman, and the other Matrons, offered the boys the last bit of tenderness they would know, rubbing their heads, hugging them, kissing their cheeks, before sending them to the door where two War Boys waited to collect them and stand them in a row across from the older Pups.

This was it, the moment of truth. Deliberations and discussions were had between the War Boys and the Matrons, and one by one, a pub from each group were paired off. Skid with little Torch, Blok and Topsy, Morsov and Hitch, until finally, Slit was pushed forward to greet his new little brother, "Nux."

The blue-eyed little runt beamed up from where he had been shoved during the shuffle, positively bouncing up to him, his little hands arching over his head enthusiastically in greeting with a belted out, "V-8, Brother!" There were boogers crusted to his nose, but he hardly looked feral.

A few of the other boys snickered. Slit, however, could hardly stop his face from screwing into deep offense. "Oy, what is this?" he demanded of the Matrons, gesturing sharply to Nux. "I wanted a tough one!"

"Oh, he's tough. Uncrackable. Came from Below. Real tough to hold on all the way up here," one of the women replied, arms crossed against the pup's defiance.

"But he's a runt! You gave me a runt!"

"He'll grow."

"An' he smiles stupid!"

"Well, I never liked the way you smile, Slit. Maybe he'll teach ya how to do it proper."

The pups all laughed, and Slit's ears burned with embarrassment and outrage as he turned his own grey-blue gaze down to the little babe of a boy beside him.

"Alright, you lot, move along! There's more pairs to be got," a War Boy grumbled, and shoved Slit out of the way to continue.

"I never had a brother before! Calper said he had one once but he died _munnane_! And Scratch and Crash are twins they're both eac hother's brother but they'll get one too, huh? What do you like? Your name Slit, yes?" Nux couldn't believe his luck, bouncing around his new Brother in a fit of glee. So tall! He'd be strong! He had a mean look to him! He'd learn how to be mean too! "I've got a present for you!" Giggling in excitement, he dug in his pockets for a bit of twisted wire he held up excitedly, "It's a little War Boy! See? He's gotta' Lance!" He promptly pretended to stab his new brother in the arm with the hand-made toy if just to show him how fun it really was.

"Get off!" Slit barked, and snatched the bit of wire out of Nux's hand, scowling at the trinket while holding tight to his little Brother's wrist. "War Pups don't play with toys! Yer jus' a stupid baby! I catch you havin' toys, I'll stomp ya! Come on!"

He yanked the little pup along, scowling, wondering what he'd done to deserve such misfortune. Matron was wrong. His smile was fine! He didn't need anyone teaching him how to do anything, especially not some Wretch from Below. But there was work to be done. There were things to show him. If the runt was going to survive, he had to learn, or else it would be Slit's hide.

"You don't salute other War Boys," he grumbled as he made way through the long corridors of the Citadel. "Only Immortan Joe! Or when you say yer prayers."

"Oh," Nux replied, capering after him to keep up. He stretched his hands forward, even as Slit gripped his wrist to keep him from wandering off, threading his fingers together, "I just like it! And it makes people smile when you do it! See? V-8!" He cried out to a tall, brooding looking War-Boy on his way to his own station, who indeed smirked upon seeing the little pup and his enthusiasm. "Where're we goin'? We gonna' see the cars? Also, I'm not a baby! Just so's you know! They just take my food a lot, I can't help it I'm short!"

"No, yer takin' a bath! You stink!" Slit hissed. "Like dog shit!"

There was no end to Nux's mouth, a tireless engine of ceaseless talk, and Slit wasn't sure how he would endure it. For now, he focused on finding the Lake, a great pool of ice cold water surrounded by old cooking pots and fires meant for heating. A cold bath sufficed in a hurry, but it didn't rid the skin of oil, dirt, and clay the way hot water did. The trick was not to scald yourself, and most War Pups had been burned at least once.

Several boys were already there, and a few scattered Black Thumb workers, men and women alike, scrubbing themselves down.

"Oh, wow!" In the nursery, bath time usually consisted of them all lining up along the wall as they were hosed down. The tubs were reserved for those who couldn't walk yet. This looked a lot more fun. "I can do it!" He announced proudly, already undoing his grubby trousers to run into the reservoir with a splash, "You comin' too, Brother?" He liked the sound of that word. Brother. Like family! Yes, they were family now. All of them were, yes, all one big Family under Daddy Immortan, but it was important to love your Brothers, to look out for eachother and make Daddy proud together! That was the only way to get into the Good Place. He didn't know how to swim, not by a long shot, but he did know how to splash, and did it a lot with a lot of excited giggles to top it off. They had been allowed out of the nursery now and then, as they got older for little tasks, like scavenging and certain lessons, but nothing like this! This was it! On his way to man-hood!

"Nux NO! Y'don't swim in it! Yer gonna stink up the whole Lake! Get out!"

A few soft chuckles echoed in the large space when the naked pup went flying into the water, his Big Brother scolding after him. The older boy rushed to the edge, reaching as far as he could to try and snatch a thrashing limb.

"I'm not!" Nux replied defiantly, giving Slit a good solid splash.

Slit went still, the scowl on his dripping face deep and festering with frustration as he jerked up to his feet to undo his own belt and trousers. If Nux wouldn't come, then he'd go in after him, and make the boy regret it. He leaped in, a shock coursing through his body as the icy water wrapped all around him, gasping and sputtering back up to the surface. A faint cloud of clay drifting off of him as he swam for Nux.

"C'mere!" He snarled, and felt his ears burning again when he saw the older War Boys watching and elbowing each other at the spectacle. "Nux, I'm gonna slice you if you don't c'mere!"

"You'll have t'catch me!" The boy gleefully bellowed, wading his way as quick as he could back toward the dry rock edge. He'd always wanted a proper play mate! The other boys' games usually involved 'who can make Nux crack' and a very small basket, and other such activities he never really enjoyed. But not now! Slit HAD to be friends with him! That was how it worked.

And Slit did finally catch him, snatching hold of a kicking foot and scrambling his way up while pulling Nux down, until he had the length of one thin arm hooked around the pup's scrawny neck, hauling him beneath the water with a snarl.

"You do what I say! I'm yer big brother an' I'm in charge! Cross me an' I'll drown you!" Slit wrestled with him to keep Nux's head beneath the water, almost a moment too long before finally letting him up, swimming for the pool's edge to haul himself up. "Yer gonna get us in trouble, stupid Slag!"

The pup coughed and gasped and sputtered, face white even though a good amount of clay had already washed off, "Didn't… mean trouble!" He choked, frantically trying to keep up without scraping his knees on the rocky edge. Once they were both out, he crouched down beside his new Brother submissively, hands knit in front of him and wide, blue eyes turned up apologetically.

They sat there, naked and panting a while, and Slit met those eyes with a flustered skepticism. If he could just teach him to mind, maybe the runt wouldn't be such a disaster. Loyalty first. Viciousness later. Slit licked the water from his lips and swept his hand across his nose before grabbing one of the pots.

"Go fill it up an' bring it back. Put it on that fire."

Immediately, that smile was back, and Nux was off in a flash, carefully, carefully filling it up and carefully, carefully, spilling only a third of it along the way, managed to get it onto it's hook over the flame. That task completed satisfactorily by his standards, he beamed back to Slit as though ready for his next orders with glee.

Slit coughed into the back of his hand, gesturing sharply at the back of the room. "Go'n get a scrubber. Bring it here."

He sniffed hard, and growled low in his throat to get the tickle of water out as he waited for Nux to return. His lungs hurt. They always did when he strained too fast, too suddenly. _Stupid pup,_ he thought to himself, grumbling, and wiped a hand down his face to clear off the drips that kept slithering into his eyes.

Nux eagerly hurried off to where the scrubbers were located, and one was sure he found them by the clattering sound of at least six being knocked down off their racks in the process.

Once Nux scampered back, Slit had swallowed down the coughing fit before it could take too much hold and looked down his nose at the eager boy.

"Gotta scrub till you shine. Know how?"

"Uh huh!" He handed one off to Slit before sitting himself down to start scrubbing away just like he had been taught, humming all the while. He started with his feet, gradually working his way upward, but by the time he was at a knee, he glanced up, "Slit?"

The older boy eyed him for a moment, then dipped a finger into the water over the flames, only slightly less cold. "What?"

"Do you know any songs?"

Slit's lips pursed a moment as he began scrubbing at his neck, grimacing as the coarse bristles scraped across his skin. He knew some. The ones the Matrons sang. But that was baby stuff, like toys and kisses and kind words. "No."

"Oh," Nux pursed his lips, watching Slit carefully for a moment. He stopped his humming, scooting closer to the older boy, trying to sit the way he sat before resuming scrubbing his foot. "What about games?"

Slit reached to dip his scrubber into the slowly heating water, and moved to the other side of his throat as he spent a moment to think. "Couple. Get between yer toes or you'll get foot rot."

Nux reached up to do as Slit did, dipping his own scrubber with a tiny grunt before sitting down again to go over his toes again. Foot rot sounded like something one definitely didn't want. Feet were important. "You'll teach me? What sorta' games!"

"Rough ones. Too rough for runts. Yer not big enough." And Slit didn't need the other boys laughing at him when his pup brother turned out to be such a disappointment. He was scrawny, and small, and unimpressive. But Slit enjoyed having his attention, if nothing else. He liked being Boss. "One's called Fu-ku-shima. Real bloody...Cracked ribs last time." He slapped his own side briefly and smirked, dipping the scrubber again.

"Fu-Ku-Shima!" Nux tasted the phrase out, eyes all on Slit as the clay washed away, "I am too big enough! How do you play?" A new game! Whatever it was Slit would throw at him, he was determined to catch and defeat. It was easy to tell the older boy wasn't quite thrilled with the arrangement, but Nux was determined to change his mind. A few busted ribs did not scare him!

"Later. When yer bigger. And don't go askin' anyone else!" Slit snapped, a warning in his eyes as he reached to test the water again. Hot. Not quite burning, not yet bubbling. He grabbed the handle and lifted the pot to set it down between them. "I'm s'posed to keep you safe an' growin' until yer big. Then you can play."

Nux pouted, concentrating on cleaning for now, using both hands to scrub his head. "Do we start work today?" He finally ventured, unable to keep quiet for longer than a few moments, it would seem.

Slit used the hot water, pulling a sharp breath through his nose as it,and the bristles, felt as though they might tear through the skin of his chest. Burn away the dirt and grime and clay. You couldn't shine unless you scrubbed raw, as the Matrons always said. And little Nux, to Slit's eye, wasn't scrubbing very hard.

"Like this, runt," he grunted, and plucked up the boy's arm to drag the hot bristles back and forth, until white clay turned to red flesh. "All over. We're washin' the bloodbags today. Real crazy, some of 'em. Might even bite off a finger or two if yer not careful."

Nux gave a tight yelp as he was manhandled, but held it in and set his jaw. Tough Boys did not yelp when scrubbed. "Bloodbags?" What sort of bag of blood could possibly bite?

"Mhm. Full-life Ferals and Wretcheds from Below. Like you." A bit of a cruel grin edged into the corner of Slit's mouth as he scrubbed himself again, working his way down, exposing pink, clean flesh, and scars the clay had masked. "Never met a Feral, eh? They're bad ones...But they got the best blood. Makes War Boys strong."

"I am not a wretched!" Nux snarled up at him from under the brush, "I am a Half-Life! Never met a Feral, no." The curiosity snuck back into his eyes again, though, little brows raised curiously. "War Boys drink the blood?"

"HAHA!" Slit burst out at the idea, and nearly dropped his scrubber. "They hook it up to their pipes!" He grabbed Nux's arm and turned it over, pointing at and running a finger along the faint blue lines running toward his inner elbow. "You'll see when we get there. Don't try drinkin' anybody's blood or they'll toss you."

Nux cocked his head thoughtfully, digesting this information. They were Part of the Machine, he knew that much, but he hadn't realized they had pipes in them too. It made sense, really! His first day out of the Nursery and he was already learning things! "Am I ready for new clay yet?"

"Get yer undercarriage. I got yer back, then you do mine." Slit ordered, dipping and grinding the scrubber hard across the boy's shoulders and all the way down to where his rear met the floor. What a puny pink thing Nux was. Even stranger now that he lacked the ghostly white clay. Slit was so used to the sight that bare, washed flesh always made his gut turn, made him feel tense, as though something important was slipping away. Like they had all been skinned.

He shuddered off the thought and turned when he was done, looking down at his own pink palms as he waited for Nux to scrub him down.

"Why do we gotta' scrub so much just to wash Blood Bags? We're just gonna' get bloody, aren't we?" Nux's mind wasn't far from his as he quickly finished himself up and turned to peel away the paint caking on Slit's back. "Seems waste. Daddy Immortan doesn't like waste."

"Stupid! We're not washin' just to do the job. 'Member foot rot? You want the rot t'get your whole body? You see War Boys with big craters in 'em, an' sores, them's War Boys didn't clean off enough. You'll get sick. Like all thems down Below. Daddy needs us strong, so we can do war on the thiefs try to take his Things."

"M'not stupid!" Was Nux's instinctive reply, scrubbing a bit harder with all of his tiny might until Slit's back was bright pink and their bucket of water was growing milky. "Don't want sores." Maybe that's what had happened to his real Daddy? He got sores real bad? He didn't remember his parents very well, just snippets. His few years growing up here in the Above had certainly outshone the hole he had come from. But still, there were small things. His mother's face. The Shiny toys she would make for him. The soft mass of lumps growing from her neck and shoulder. The smell of oil, dirt, and a particular sweat… "Are we done yet?"

"Yeah, we're done." Slit grabbed the pot of muddied water and carried it to the other end of the room, where a large trough lined the wall, full of fresh white clay. He dumped the pot's contents into it, reaching in with both arms to slosh it about, mixing and preparing before slathering himself with a sigh of relief. All the sting in his flesh was drawn out, replaced by the refreshing cold. If the hot water and rough bristles were the worst part of bathing, this part was the best.

Nux had to stand on his tip toes to reach over the side of the trough, doing exactly as Slit did before plunging his entire head into the mix, lifting it up with a refreshed gasp before smearing the mud the rest of the way down. "We're gonna' be the most fearsome Brothers! Aren't we?"

Slit glanced at the pup, his head an uneven cake of clay that slopped down his narrow chest and sharp shoulders. And there was that big, beaming grin, the blue of his eyes standing out sharply like water in the Wasteland. Full of hope. Too much of it. But so was Slit. And the dark gears in his head turned at all the possibilities. He just had to get the softness out of him. Make him sharp and shiny and chrome. Hard as steel, like himself.

He grinned and threw a wet slap across Nux's head. "You don't look fearsome, runt! Even a lizard won't run from you!"

"Am too Fierce!" Nux growled, but the effect was somewhat dampened by the continuation of his excited grin. He bared his teeth and turned it into his best proper growl, giving Slit a playful shove just to show him he meant business.

"Haha! Nothin' but a V1 in that chest!" Slit shoved him hard enough to send Nux to his back as he stood, smearing the wet clay down the thin stalks of his legs, and baring his own teeth back down at the little pup. "Think yer a big scrapper, eh?"

Nux quickly gathered himself up from the ground, little fists balled as he suddenly lunged at Slit's legs to tackle him to the ground with as ferocious a growl as he seemed capable.

Slit wobbled, reeled for something to grab hold of, and only found the edge of the trough on his way down. Crisp laughter sounded cruel in his throat, both boys slick with wet clay, wrestling and flopping along the floor like beached fish. "Oy, what're you doin', runt? Are them fists or feathers? AHAHA oh they tickle!"

When fists seemed to not do much good, Nux turned to his teeth, clamping down as hard as he could on the older boy's upper arm, only to get a mouthful of clay. If he wanted to show Slit just how tough he was, he'd have to man his way through it. He bit down harder, giving a fresh, squealing snarl.

"Hahaha, you-AGH!" The initial bite was little more than a pinch, but as the pup's teeth gnashed harder, Slit gave a bark of pain. Maybe he really was Feral! Maybe he had the makings of a real fighter. And maybe he ought to get his teeth out of Slit's flesh already!

"Nux, get off!" He snapped, and brought sharp knuckles down on the boy's slippery skull.

Nux replied with something akin to 'no' but was muffled by a mouth full of flesh.

"Nux I'm warnin' you!" Slit snarled through clenched teeth, as the pain grew hotter and sharper in his arm. He tried yanking his arm free, but Nux just came along with it, and forced another cry out of his brother's lungs. He brought his fist down again, harder, rolling to put the pup on his back. "I SAID LET GO!"

Only once he tasted blood did Nux finally let go, ignoring the pain- he had been beaten before, after all, that was nothing new, and instead was giggling triumphantly. He spat pink mud before beaming up at his Brother from his back on the ground, "Can so be tough!"

Slit grabbed the pup's jaw in outrage as a line of blood slowly slid toward his wrist, mixing with the clay, skin stinging and radiating heat. His fingers squished up Nux's cheeks, Slit's lips tight, breath hot in his flaring nostrils, and for a moment considered biting down on the smaller boy's nose. But he gave his cheek a firm slap, instead, and his tight scowl melted into a vexed sort of grin. "Yeah...gonna be a Raging Feral for me, eh? Won't let nobody toss you!"

He stood up, and hauled Nux along, twisting him into a headlock as he walked back toward their clothes. "Gimme a good snarl, Feral Boy!"

Nux did as he was told, snarling away as he struggled to try to get free of Slit's arms, stumbling all the way toward their trousers. "I'll toss 'em first! Shred 'em wif my teeth!"

"That's right! Shred 'em till they beg!" Slit laughed, and finally let him go. Though the clay wasn't fully dried, it hardly mattered. He tugged his pants back on and pulled his belt tight, leading the way to Nux's first chore. He took long strides, chest proud and his engine revving with renewed confidence. His brother might be a runt, but he'd be savage. Enough time, and he'd be the most kami-crazy of all the War Boys, himself the only exception.

The fact Slit was laughing was all the encouragement Nux needed, giggling himself as he hurried to dress and run to keep up with the older boy.

Their duties were simple, but many, and Nux seemed only just barely efficient at any of them. Whether this was due to his age or just an inherent ineptitude was debatable. He babbled questions to the Blood Bags as they washed them, about the outside, about their dark skin, about what it's like to hang upside down for so long… pups were supposed to be seen but not heard, silent as shadows and keep out from under foot. He was not very good at any of those things. He bumped into tables, squeaked when startled, and the questions were never ending.

At least when it came to scavenging he was distracted enough to stop asking questions. That seemed to go well enough, hair scooped up here, spare parts gathered there, all deposited into the proper bins, the worst seeming when he started humming to himself once again. At least until they took their supper break, and he emptied his pockets of the spare bits of wire and odd shiny bobble and happily started twisting it away instead of eating his meager meal.

Slit raised a brow, his cheeks bulging with food, as little Nux laid out his take of the day. "Wutcha' got, Nuxsh?"

A weapon maybe? A tool? Slit watched and chewed, and gulped down water to clear his throat.

"Noffin' yet!" His tongue stuck out as Nux twisted the wire around the little disk of metal, finally perching it on the edge of his bowl before pulling it toward him to eat the boiled greens cheerfully. "Now issa' lizard! See? He's eatin' too!"

Slit huffed, despite the impressive feat of turning wire into a toy, and shoveled more plants into his mouth. "What'd I say 'bout toysh?"

"That you're no fun," Nux replied through his own mouthful, and pretended to give a wilted stalk to the so-called lizard.

Slit scowled around his food at the pup. "M'plenty fun."

To that, Nux gave a snort, and slurped up the rest of his meal, making the lizard skitter toward Slit as he chewed.

The older boy watched, and waited until the metal lizard was nearly at his bowl, then slammed his fist down to crumple the toy beneath it, and gave a short bark of laughter. "Now you can cook him up."

Nux glared up at him, little lips pouting, "See? No fun."

"Alright, boys!" A full fledged War Boy, Ace, called out across the large room full of ravenous pups. "Pick up an' off to bed!"

Slit groaned, plunking his bowl into Nux's, and quickly drank down the last of his aqua-cola. When their bowls were rinsed and deposited, a job for Nux while Slit stood impatiently by, he lead the pup to the Bunks. It was a wide, circular room, full of tarp hammocks, piles of old sheets and clothes, and a few dusty, stained mattresses.

While Nux had been brimming with seemingly endless energy all day, now he was trudging as he ghosted behind his Big Brother, trying to hide his yawns as he clung to Slit's arm. It wasn't so different from the Nursery here, really… just filled with bigger boys and their new pup partners.

Slit rubbed at his eyes with his free fist, unsuccessfully attempting to shake the pup off his arm. Baby stuff. Soft. He'd have to...But another yawn interrupted his tired thoughts, letting out a loud growl of an exhale as he pointed to a nest of old, weathered clothes, and a thin, tattered sheet, all lovingly placed and arranged and prepared the night before.

"You sleep there."

"Where do you sleep?" Nux at least didn't need to be told twice, crawling into the heap to test it out. Certainly softer than the stone floor he was usually left, and a touch warmer too. Yes, good. Things were looking up! Lovely.

"Here." Slit tumbled down onto a thin cot and his own pile of rags on top right beside Nux, kicking off the boots that were much too large for his feet, relieved to feel cool air on his toes. It would only get colder by the hour, and Slit tugged at the pile, wrestling free an oversized shirt to use as a blanket. Part of him, a part he refused to acknowledge, wanted Nux to hum like earlier in the day. It had been two years, for him, since he was pushed out of the Nursery, paired to a Brother, only to be abandoned. And sometimes he missed the small comforts of the Matrons.

Nux did as Slit did, digging deep into his heap of rags. It wasn't long after they had both settled in, sleep slowly catching them, the little War Pup had scooted his nest closer, nuzzling into Slit's side for additional warmth.

Slit grunted at the feeling, nearly ready to snatch up what might be a rat nosing at his side. But his hand fell over Nux's skull, instead, and his face went tight. It sent strange chills through him, same as seeing a War Boy skinned out of his clay. Off. Uncanny. Softness and warmth where it didn't belong. Human.

Slit rolled away and put his back to the pup, and picked tiredly at the clay caked under his nails, dreading when the noise of all the other boys would fall to silence. He always tried to fall asleep before then, before his mind could wander in the silent dark to unpleasant things.

Even in sleep, it seemed Nux was intent on being insufferable. When Slit moved away, the pup merely rolled with him into the warm spot left behind to curl up against the older pup's back with a small, distant noise. Quietly, under his breath as though subconsciously trying to fill the growing silence himself, he began to hum. It was an old song the Matrons would often sing to every generation, and while it was certainly considered 'soft', little Nux didn't care. When the fevers were great, when the pains of hunger were strong, when they had a big day ahead of them, it had always done the trick to relax and let sleep claim them.

 _Rumble of the Engines, blanketed in clay,  
Sleep the sleep of warriors, victorious one day,  
Beware the rock, beware the crow, the blazing sun in sky,  
For you will be victorious, once you live and die._

Slit shut his eyes, focusing on the simple notes breathing out of Nux's nose and against his back, quiet and gentle in a place where everything was loud and sharp and hard. He remembered the way the Matrons would stroke his back when the coughing fits took him. Remembered the excitement of his first Bonding Day. Nux's humming carried him through old, dusty memories he'd tried to forget, tried to trade in exchange for the cold strength of an Engine, when he often felt more like a hollowed out hull.

Gradually, his breathing evened and slowed, swallowed up in his own exhaustion, and slept.


End file.
